


I ain't afraid of no Handsome Jack

by Tangerine_Catnip



Category: Borderlands, Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Ghosts, M/M, New York City, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6271513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine_Catnip/pseuds/Tangerine_Catnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys never wanted to become a Ghostbuster, but sometimes it’s the job that picks you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I ain't afraid of no Handsome Jack

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea 11 hours before posting this. Why, oh why, do I let me do this to me.

"Heyyyyyy, how's it hanging, shit pickle?"

"Ghaha! Jack!"

Rhys jolted so hard he nearly dropped the business end of his proton pack.

"Would you please go away!" Rhys hissed, glaring up at the blue specter and the area of dissipating energy that gave him his otherworldly appearance. "I'm nervous enough as it is without you sneaking up behind me."

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you went around touching things that didn't belong to you."

"For the last time, I was trying to bring your mask back to Hyperion."

"Sure you were, Pumpkin. I bet it never even occurred to you to steal it for yourself and add it to the shrine you have to me in your basement."

Rhys would have argued that it wasn't a shrine, it was like three posters, but he had this argument with Jack before and now was not the time or the place for round three.

The old mansion creaked and settled, as if it was an entity all of its own, and the presence of Rhys and the three other Ghostbusters was giving it a mild case of indigestion.

"Jack, there is a class 6 entity hiding somewhere around here, and I would **really** like to be quiet so I don't end up possessed and climbing up the walls with my head on backwards."

Jack sniggered, dropping to floor level beside Rhys and tossing a spectral hand around his shoulder.

"Aww don't worry, I won't let that happen to you. No one gets to possess my meat-sack but me."

Rhys rolled his eyes and decided he should keep walking. He needed to find that class 6 before it found him. He passed right through Jack's hand as he proceeded down the hallway, while Jack floated a half step behind him.

"Where have you been for the last week, anyway?" Rhys asked, keeping his tone hardly above a whisper.

"Oh, around, exploring, getting used to the whole being dead thing. Ticking off the boxes on my personal "if I ever become a ghost" checklist. By the way, Celia Eventide, the ECHO net celebrity? Just as hot naked as you'd think. "

"Jack, really?!"

"Hey, being dead has to have some perks. Besides, just think about how I feel. I laid eyes on hottest woman in the fourth galaxy with her tits out, and here I am with an intangible dick."

"Okay, that's definitely too much information. "

"Sooo, does that mean you're not likely to let me borrow your body so I can beat one off to that fantastic image?"

"As if you would actually ask..." Rhys muttered.

Rhys turned a corner into a dusty dining room with a table long enough to go curling on. There were cobwebs on the chandelier and chairs covered in white clothes that let the imagination turn them into haunting specters when you caught them out of the corner of your eye.

All and all, it was a perfect habitat for a ghost. Yet, Rhys had yet to see hide nor hair of this one since it had escaped from Sasha and Fiona two hours ago.

"Need a little help there, baby-cakes?" Jack asked, reclining backwards in the air as if he was sitting in an invisible arm chair. Rhys grit his teeth, weighing his options.

"What's it going to cost me?"

"Five hours of full control over all of your bits. No fighting me, no complaining, pants optional, and I get to choose when I want it."

Rhys nodded. All and all that wasn't too bad, and if Jack was helping, he might actually get to leave this creepy place before the sun came up.

"No killing anyone" Rhys said.

Jack grinned and placed his hand over his chest, holding up two fingers on his other hand.

"Scouts honor, buddy. I'll keep those pretty little hands of yours clean. Of blood, at least."

Rhys sighed and lifted his hand, holding it flat with fingers splayed. Jack drifted closer and placed his ghostly hand up against Rhys. A special sort of handshake they had both agreed on to mitigate Jack's incorporeal nature.

The contact sent a chill up Rhys' spine. A small taste of what it would feel like when Jack took his side of their bargain and slipped inside his body. Filling every inch of Rhys with his presence and power.

It was every bit as exciting as it was terrifying.

"Uugh, why me..." Rhys muttered under his breath as they separated. The question was rhetorical, but Jack replied anyway.

"You wouldn't have been my first choice either, Buttercup. But it's a little hard to make deals with anyone else when you're the only one who can see or hear me."

Rhys wished he had known what he was getting himself into when he reached out to pick up Handsome Jack's mask. Before that moment, he didn't believe ghosts even existed. Now hunting them was his whole life and Jacks presence had turned him into a bonafide ghost whisperer.

"Come on Rhysie, let's get this over with. She's on the second floor, in the bathroom. Best guess from the Psychic resonance, is that she killed herself after drowning her two infant kids in the pond. You'll want to approach slowly. She's not the biggest fan of dudes in general since her husband was going to leave her for a younger woman, that's what triggered this mess."

Jack flew back into the hall and hovered by the main staircase. Waiting for Rhys to catch up.

"You can tell all that just from standing... er, floating here?"

What can I say, Rhysie? When you're dead your life is an open book. Especially whatever baggage is tying you to the mortal plain of existence to start with.

So if I was a ghost, I'd be able to sense why you're still hanging around?" Rhys asked as he closed his hand around the rotting oak railing.

"No, I'm not like the rest of these sad sacks. I'm still here because heroes never die."

Rhys looked up at Jack, trying to focus on him rather than looking through him. it was all too easy when you were staring at what was basically just a shimmer in the air in the rough shape of what Handsome Jack's body used to look like.

"Yeah, sure"

* * *

 

Being possessed by Jack made for some of the strangest experiences Rhys had ever had.

He still felt every part of his body, but he also felt fundamentally disconnected from it. As if someone had cut his puppet strings and replaced them with their own.

The sensation triggered a reflexive urge to fight against the intrusion, and it was only with practice Rhys had learned to ignore it and let Jack have full control.

Once he had mastered that skill, it became oddly relaxing. Like he was sleeping while his body remained awake and everything he experienced was a part of a dream.

Jack had taken the subway from the firehouse turned Ghostbuster HQ and travelled downtown till he was standing outside a trendy New York club.

The neon signs out front spelled the word "Moxxxi's" in glowing pink and red letters. While a stocking covered leg did high kicks above the word.

Jack had mentioned going to a club, so Rhys had dressed his body in trendy black slacks with white pinstripes, a teal dress shirt, and a skinny red tie.

He was in his Ghostbuster suit so much these days he would take any opportunity to flaunt his wardrobe. Even if it technically wouldn't be him wearing it.

Jack flashed his (Rhys') Id to the bouncer as he was let inside. It was a Monday night, so the place was rather empty.

Despite the club's name, there wasn't any stripper polls or dancing cages. although a lot of the seating straddled the line between love seat and bed.

Rhys hoped they cleaned them thoroughly, or at least never shined a blacklight on them.

Jack made a beeline for the bar and sat in one of the many empty stools. There was only one other patron sitting there, and he looked like he was having a little nap at the moment.

After a short while the bartender drifted over. She was about Rhys' age. Late twenties, with midnight black hair that was shaved on one side and went down past her shoulders on the other.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure, Princess. I'll have a Handsome Jack on the rocks."

Rhys panicked for a second before he remembered there was a fairly popular drink named after the dearly departed CEO. A mix of Jack Daniel's and spiced rum.

And, of course, Jack would prefer to drink something named after himself.

The bartender scrunched her nose up, but flitted off to fill the order without comment.

While she was pouring out the liquid, Jack kept their eyes on her. Rhys noted the tattoos decorating her entire right arm and chest. They continued on under her strapless top, reappeared on a small section of her exposed hip, then hid underneath her jeans.

If Rhys had been the type to rate woman on a scale of hotness, (which he wasn't, that was Jack's thing.) he would have given her solid tens with as many bonus points as the judges would allow.

Was Jack planning to pick her up? There didn't seem to be any other reason to come to this bar instead of any of the hundred others in New York.

Rhys didn't really want to hang out in the back of his own head while a ghost had sex using his body, but if Jack managed it in the next four hours it would be within the terms of the agreement they had made.

"Here, and don't call me Princess." The bartender said, sliding the glass towards Jack.

He caught it, tilted the rim in her direction so she knew he had heard her, then took a long sip. The taste hit Rhys' tongue and he shuddered, or at least felt like he was shuttering. The drink was so strong he was surprised his teeth hadn't dissolved.

'Damn it Jack, Take it easy. I don't have the same alcohol tolerance you do. If you drink more than one of those we're going to end up sleeping on the floor. '

'Keep your pants on bitch tits, I'm just making a show of it. She has to think I just came here to drink.'

Rhys would have followed up by asking 'well then, what are you doing here?' but Jack had already forgotten about him and struck up some small talk with the bartender.

"So gorgeous, how long have you been working here?"

"Four months and some change," She replied with a shrug.

"You enjoy it?"

"Yeah, there are a few scumbags, but a lot of nice people too. Really, I just like being around others."

Jack nodded and buried his nose in his drink, though Rhys could feel he only took the tiniest bit passed his lips.

The woman leaned on the bar, observing Rhys' face critically.

"Hey uh… the more I get to looking at you the more familiar you seem. Are you like, on TV or something?"

Rhys felt Jack bristle on the inside. He had probably been expecting to stay anonymous while using Rhys' body. But while Rhys was nowhere near as famous as Jack had been when he was alive, he was still one of the four Ghostbusters and would be recognizable for his stupid jumpsuit if nothing else.

"Ugh… yeah. My organization runs a few commercials. I'm the guy quivering in the background looking like he's about to pass out," Jack replied tartly.

"Oh, I remember now, you're a Ghostbuster!" The bartender realized, clapping her hands together in delight. "You know, I used to be into all that paranormal stuff when I was a teen. I would beg my dad to buy me black candles and books about how to summon daemons-

As she talked Rhys felt Jack's mood change. He didn't look it on the outside, but there was a warmth spreading through him that Rhys could feel.

"I brewed up concoctions in the bathroom sink out of aftershave and hair conditioner, even tried my hand at a few curses…"

she trailed off as she spotted a small group of guys who had just sat down at the bar six seats away from Jack.

"Shi… er, shoot, sorry. I got to go work. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Do what you got to do, kiddo."

The woman made another face, like she had just stepped in something that had recently passed through a digestive system. Obviously, she wasn't a huge fan of nicknames, and that would make her about as compatible with Jack as a hedgehog was with a bounce castle.

Once she was over on the other side of the bar it became apparent that the newcomers were way past drunk already. The woman refused to serve them, but they were bolstered by strength in numbers and resorted to hurling insults.

One demanded to see a woman named Moxxi because she had a better rack, while another disagreed and said that the dark haired woman's tits were way better. Then the third demanded to see them to know for sure.

The bartender ignored them and started to walk away, but one of the guys reached out and grabbed her breasts.

Jack flew out of his seat. Rhys had been so distracted watching he hadn't noticed the anger building up inside until it was rushing out of him.

Jack moved his body with a speed and power that Rhys couldn't have ever achieved on his own. Ghostly energy took him over, and they hardly touched the floor at all as Jack vaulted over the bar and slammed his fist into the jaw of the offending drunk.

"Get away from her!" he screamed, jumping over the bar a second time to follow the unlucky idiot to the ground and whale on him some more.

"hey!" The woman screamed. She followed him over the bar and snatched Jack's fist out of the air before he could get in a third punch. "Whoa guy, chill out! Don't freaking kill him."

Jack tensed. Rhys could feel his anger boiling over, straining to keep going until this man's face was nothing but a bloody pulp. But the longer he looked at the dark haired woman, the more he calmed down, and she was eventually able to guide him away from the man on the floor.

The bouncer rushed in and the bartender waved him down.

"Please, just get these guys out of here. The one on the floor looks like he should be okay."

Said man looked like he might want to disagree, but there was no blood on his face and his nose was still in one piece.

She led Jack by the arm a few paces away from the men while the bouncer helped his victim back to his feet.

"Angel, baby, are you alright?" Jack asked, scanning her over for any sign of damage.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. It's part of the job, happens all the time." She let go of Jack and dusted herself off. When she looked back up at him, confusion was written all over her face. "Wait… how do you know my name? I never introduced myself."

"Uhh…"

Angel scowled, and took a step away from him.

"I think you should leave, alright? We're closing in half an hour anyway. Your drink is on the house, call it a thank you, I guess."

She turned her back on him and disappeared through a staff only door behind the bar. Jack grit his teeth and left as well, storming out of the bar and kicking the front door open on his way out.

'Jack, what the hell was that? You promised me you wouldn't kill anyone!'

'That fuck put his hands on my baby girl.'

'Your baby girl?'

'My daughter, He was going to hurt my daughter!'

Rhys fell silent within his own mind. Handsome Jack had a daughter? And a full grown one at that. How did that never come up in any tabloid articles, or on his ECHO net pages?

Once more, how could someone as famous as handsome Jack keep a secret like that.

'You know what, I changed my mind. I am going to go and get drunk off my ass.'

Rhys was to shocked to even try to put up his usual protests. He needed more time to process this information.

'Wait… that's why you were gone all week! You were trying to track angel down.'

Jack didn't respond, but a nearby trashcan got a good taste of Rhys' fake alligator skin boot.


End file.
